


Here, There and Back Again

by Ariana Deralte (ArianaDeralte), ArianaDeralte



Series: Uric the Oddball Series [3]
Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Adventure, Gen, Humor, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-12
Updated: 2009-12-12
Packaged: 2017-10-04 09:07:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArianaDeralte/pseuds/Ariana%20Deralte, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArianaDeralte/pseuds/ArianaDeralte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Uric "the Oddball" Beaufolle's sixth-year, but instead of spending it at Hogwarts during the late 1600's, Uric has become lost in time. Special guest appearances by any character you can think of, and then some.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. And Where To Find Them

**Author's Note:**

> Here, There and Back Again: An Uric "the Oddball" Beaufolle story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Uric the Oddball, Harry Potter and all other recognizable characters do not belong to me. They are the property of J.K. Rowling.

            The fire crackled cheerily in Hagrid's cottage late on that January night. A thick carpet of snow grew steadily outside, fuelled by a cold and driving wind. Inside, the only indication of the storm was the occasional flicker of the fire as the wind crept down the flue.

It was crowded in the cottage. Hagrid hadn't been able to bear the idea of keeping his pets out in the storm, so he and Fang had made room for two Doxies, a Jarvey, and a Streeler. Slimy, the Streeler, had set itself to circumventing the room, slowly eating a hole in the floor with its poisonous slime, while the Doxies and the Jarvey were occupied with the greatest challenge of their lives – eating Hagrid's treacle toffee.

A knock came on the door, and Hagrid cast a puzzled look at Fang. The dog whimpered and hid himself further under Hagrid's bed. The boarhound was afraid of storms, and he wasn't too partial to unexpected guests either. Hagrid shrugged and got up to open the door, making sure to step over Slimy as he passed.

Once open, the wind caught the door and pushed it up against the cottage wall, sending a blast of icy air and snow into the room. Hagrid had to squint through the snowflakes that landed on his bushy eyebrows to see his visitor.

It was a student -- one of the older ones, if he didn't miss his guess -- and a Hufflepuff judging by his house badge. He didn't recognize the face, though, and he was sure he would have remembered the face of the young man who was somehow smiling cheerfully at him out of the middle of a blizzard.

"Can I come in, sir?" asked the boy politely. Hagrid blinked in surprise. No one at Hogwarts called him "sir." "I'm not too worried about myself, but Simon doesn't like the cold, and we've been having trouble finding the castle."

"'Course yeh can come in," Hagrid answered instinctively. He wasn't going to send the boy back out into the blizzard.

The young wizard stepped into the cabin, not even noticing Hagrid's frantic fight to close the door against the wind. He removed his cloak and hung it by the fire, revealing his light-brown hair done up in an old-fashioned braid. Then he took a seat at the table, stepping unconsciously over Slimey's path. He didn't say anything as he reached down into his robes, and the jumper underneath, to pull out a scraggly, damp-looking creature.

Hagrid leant in closer, intrigued by what he rightly identified as a fantastic beast. The creature looked like a cross between a lizard and a bird. It had wings with light-blue feathers. The tiny feathers also stuck out of random places on its otherwise normal green lizard body. It lay shuddering on the table for a few moments, then turned its head to look reproachfully at its master.

The boy hung his head. "I'm sorry, Simon. I shouldn't have had you with me," he said.

"What is he?" asked Hagrid eagerly. The boy looked at him.

"This is Simon," he said gesturing at the creature. "He's a bird-lizard. I'm Uric Beaufolle. I'm a human." Hagrid decided there was something a bit odd about this student, but he wouldn't hold it against someone who owned such a delightful creature. He offered his hand.

"Rubeus Hagrid. Friends call me Hagrid, and you can consider yerself a friend." Uric smiled brightly at him. "I'll get you a cup a' tea," said Hagrid, remembering his manners. "Do yeh need anythin' fer Simon?" Uric considered this as Hagrid started the familiar ritual of making tea.

"A blanket, please. He needs to keep his feathers dry and warm. My uncle didn't breed him as well as he could," said the boy. Hagrid brought the tea to the table, along with a soft blanket that had last been used by his beloved Norbert.

"There you are. Don' mind the char marks. Yer uncle breeds bird-lizards?" he asked. Uric nodded as he began to dry Simon.

"And other things. He started breeding Occamys this year and he's still breeding Diricawls and Nifflers. He even bred a Basilisk once," said Uric proudly. Hagrid's face darkened.

"I don' agree with breedin' Basilisks," he said.

"Neither did the Basilisk," pointed out Uric cheerfully. He finished rubbing Simon all over before wrapping him snugly in the blanket with only his head peeking out. Hagrid could hear his soft chirping. "Do you think our robes should be allowed to talk? Then they could remind us when we've buttoned them wrong, but what if you had an especially talkative robe?"

"Put a cork in it, you right nutty bas-" said another voice. Hagrid hurriedly shoved a piece of treacle toffee into Harvey the Jarvey's, mouth. The large, ferretlike creature stared at him, sulking, while the pair of Doxies (Milerna and Melfina) giggled insanely around their own mouthfuls.

"Sorry 'bout that. You were sayin'?" But Uric was looking at the creatures now. He nodded politely to them before speaking.

"Hello, pretty Doxies and Mr. Jarvey." Harvey made a face at being addressed, and muttered some very slurred insults that Uric didn't seem to notice. The Doxies, however, froze when he spoke to them. Then one of them slowly climbed onto the table and approached him. The Doxy (Hagrid thought it was Melfina) stood staring at Uric, who stared back with a puzzled expression. She chattered something at him in her own language, and Uric nodded.

"Now, Melfina-" Hagrid began, but before he could finish, the Doxy dove towards Uric. Its black body ended up snuggled between Uric's arm and Simon's blanket-wrapped body, her four tiny hands curled desperately around the boy's thumb. She opened her mouth to bite like all Doxies did. Hagrid had quite a few bites from her already.

"No, Melfina," said Uric firmly. The Doxy subsided.

"Seems yeh've got a flair for handlin' my beauties," said Hagrid proudly, watching as Milerna made her way across the table to snuggle down next to her sister. Most of his students had run away when he introduced them, and he was quite sure he had heard Neville yell out something about Cornish pixies.

"Professor Baker says they like being near humans. When they bite, they're not actually trying to eat us, but our auras. They're not very good at it, though," said Uric. He sounded like he was apologizing for the Doxies.

"Yeh had a good teacher, lad." Hagrid paused. There was no Professor Baker at Hogwarts. Hadn't been even when he was a student. And yet Uric sat in front of him, in Hufflepuff robes. "I don' remember you in my classes. What year are yeh in?" Uric made a show of looking around the room, then looked closely at him.

"Late 1900s?" he guessed. It took a moment for Hagrid to decipher that comment.

"What year are yeh supposed to be in?" he asked cautiously, though privately he was considering calling Dumbledore. This was too much of a mystery for him.

"1685, but it might be 1686 by the time I jump back there again," said Uric. He didn't seem worried about the prospect.

"What happened?" asked Hagrid. Uric shook his head, a perplexed look on his face.

"I can't remember. That happens to me sometimes, but not like this. Unless I can't remember that as well. Maybe I can't remember anything?" the boy mused.

"You remembered yer professor," Hagrid pointed out. "What's the last thing yeh remember from your time?" Uric thought for a long time about the question.

"I was in one of the lost rooms, and I found a new passage for me and Simon to explore, and then -- then I was in the Hufflepuff common room, only it was decorated in yellow, not plants and a boy there said it was 1379. I was only there for a day, and then Simon and I faded away and found ourselves in the Gryffindor common room. But it was 2012 and we only had an hour there before we found ourselves back in 1685. I thought that was it then, and went to classes like normal, but after a week we faded away again. Today we landed on the Quidditch pitch, only it was cold and we couldn't find the castle, so we came here." Hagrid was looking at Uric in shock, trying to work out what had happened to the boy. He was unaware that this was probably the most coherent account Uric had uttered in his life.

"Gotta get Dumbledore," he mumbled to himself. He went to fetch the Floo powder, not noticing that Uric was carefully unwinding the blanket from around Simon and saying goodbye to Melfina, Milerna, Harvey and Slimy (though Uric called him Mr. Streeler). Hagrid tossed the powder into the fire, calling out for Dumbledore.

Uric fetched his cloak, and tugged on Hagrid's sleeve to get his attention.

"Thank you for the tea and the blanket, Mr. Hagrid." He bowed. "Sorry to bother you. Tell Mr. Dumbledore hello for me." Uric smiled, and left Hagrid gaping as he slowly faded away, Simon clutched tightly in his arms. A moment later, Dumbledore stuck his head through the fire.

"Can I help you, Hagrid?" he asked pleasantly. Hagrid looked around his cottage. There was something he was supposed to remember, or else why would he have called Dumbledore? He spotted the tea on the table, but was unsure why he would have set out a second cup.

"Er, hello." He paused. "I had it a second ago, Headmaster," he said awkwardly. Dumbledore regarded him thoughtfully.

"This blizzard's putting us all out of sorts, Hagrid," he said finally. "Why don't you come up to the castle, and we'll see if we can't get the house-elves to part with some hot chocolate?"

"I'd like that," Hagrid admitted, though he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something important he was supposed to know.

Later that night, Hagrid washed out the two tea cups and wondered why his Doxies seemed so depressed. It was weeks before they would even bite anyone again. 

* * *

Next chapter: 1685, 1855, 1248, 1983, 1993:)


	2. Lost and Found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Readers of Minerva McTabby will recognize where the second scene in this chapter comes from;) It takes place sometime during the third chapter of _Two Worlds and In Between_ and is used with her permission.
> 
> Thanks to my beta reader, Alchemine:)

            "Uric's become unstuck in time," said Louis casually as he leant against the desk.

            "That's nice," said Mena, not even looking up from her Charms essay.

Louis counted under his breath, and grinned to himself as her quill slowly stopped writing.

            "What?" she demanded. She was holding her quill as if she were going to hex him with it.

Louis shrugged. "It's just like I said. Uric's unstuck in time."

It would have been a ridiculous idea if they were talking about anyone else, but she should be perfectly used to Uric doing odd things by now. It was their sixth year, after all.

Mena nodded unwillingly. "That does explain why he's been disappearing this year."

            "And you never thought to ask him if he was lost in time when you were interrogating him about where he's been," pointed out Louis. He had been there for many of her questioning sessions. In hindsight, Uric's answers had made perfect sense – if he were popping through time.

_            "Where have you been, Uric?"_

_            "Hogwarts."_

Mr. Beaufolle had already decided something strange was going on and was claiming that all of Uric's absences were due to an unexplained illness. The professors wouldn't be so accepting.

Mena gave him an annoyed look.

            "You didn't ask him either," she said. Louis shook his head.

            "No, I didn't, but I was lucky enough to run into him, and he lent me this." He held a book out to her.

            "_Voyages with Vampires_ by Gilderoy Lockhart," she read aloud. There was a cheerful, blond-haired wizard smiling and waving from the cover. Louis wondered, for the third time that day, how long the man had stood in front of a mirror practicing that smile.

            "Uric said it was given to him as a present. It's even signed," said Louis dryly. Mena turned to the inside cover to see the signature. Louis waited patiently. She would notice the anomaly eventually. Mena flipped through the book, reading a few random pages, though he could have told her the content was rubbish. Finally she went back to the title page. She looked up at him.

            "This was published in 1990," she said in disbelief.

Louis nodded grimly. "Exactly."

            "So what do we do?" asked Mena. Louis knew she wouldn't have asked if she had had any idea of what they should be doing.

            "Next time Uric comes back here, we question him. Hopefully, he'll give us some clues, and we can tell him to start trying to figure it out as well. He probably hasn't even thought about trying to stop himself from time-hopping."

            "He's never been gone for more than a week, so maybe he's caught in some type of loop," suggested Mena.

            "Maybe. I guess we're going to have to do some research on time travel," he said reluctantly. While he didn't mind research per se, he preferred to be doing it when it would give him some type of advantage. "I'll also write to Mr. Beaufolle and explain what's happening. That way he can fend off Mrs. Kurze. The important thing is talking to Uric, though."

Mena nodded.

            "Next time we see him. We'll tie him down and force-feed him a Truth Potion," she said with a certain amount of glee. Louis had to admit it was an appealing image.

* * *

            Aberforth Dumbledore wandered aimlessly through the dungeons, unwilling to go back to his dormitory and face his classmates again, and unwilling to go to Central to meet with his tutors, as he was supposed to. He was aware that he was sulking and being a "stubbornly annoying Mudblood," as Marvolo put it when he was in one of his better moods, but he didn't care. He didn't belong here. Life had been better at home. There was no magic there. Nothing unnatural except for his brother.

            But here at Hogwarts, everything was wrong. The classes. The students. The teachers. And most importantly, magic itself. People shouldn't be able to do these things, but when he had tried to explain that, he had only gotten the usual threat of being hexed. Sometimes it seemed as if no one ever listened to him.

            "It's clearly a matter of status. If Marvolo takes up with Rosier…" said a voice from around the corner.

            "He'd be a fool if he did," said another voice scornfully.

            "Or a fool if he didn't?" asked the first voice slyly.

            The voices were coming closer. Aberforth looked around frantically. He didn't want to meet any other Slytherins now, especially while he was alone.

The corridor he was in was unadorned. Solid stone was in every direction he looked, except for the regular torches. He pressed flat against the wall. Maybe they wouldn't notice him.

            "It won't hurt Delacroix, but it won't help him either," said one of the voices casually, as they turned the corner.

Aberforth closed his eyes. _Please don't let them notice me. Hide me. Please. Hide me._ It became a mantra for him, and at first he didn't notice the strange sinking sensation he was getting, or the fact that the voices were fading away. He opened his eyes and would have screamed if his mouth hadn't already been covered. His body was sinking into the wall. He had one last glimpse of the tip of his nose and the opposite wall before he was plunged into darkness.

Marvolo was going to be so annoyed.

            He was frozen in shock for a moment, before he started screaming inside his head. _Out._ He wanted out.

            "_Lumos_," said a voice beside him.

Aberforth jumped in shock. He turned toward the light. He was amazed that he could see, though his vision was more like when you unfocused your eyes and attempted to see through both your eyes, despite the fact that you were covering one with your hand. It was like something was lurking right in front of him that he just _couldn't_ see. He shivered at the thought, but was distracted by the boy he _could_ see, who was holding up a brilliantly shining wand.

            It was a Hufflepuff. He looked like he was about Marvolo's age, though Aberforth had never seen him before – Slytherins weren't supposed to pay attention to Hufflepuffs, right? He also looked fuzzy around the edges, as if the walls were attempting to reassert their precedence on his body.

Aberforth wrapped his arms around himself, trying to stop his shivering. It was like they were in Hell with the demons ready to take their souls for their sins. The thought was terrifying. 

            "This isn't the best way to find the badgers," advised the boy.

Aberforth gaped at him, his fear momentarily forgotten.

            "What?" he asked shakily. The Hufflepuff gestured with his wand, making the dark shadows flicker.

            "The badgers. They don't live here anymore. Sometimes they travel through here like we're doing, but it's very hard to catch them at it. The proper way to find a badger is to not be looking for one." The older boy was giving him a friendly smile, but Aberforth began to back slowly away. Perhaps he had been wrong. Perhaps this boy was a demon.

A few steps carried him up against an invisible barrier. He pressed against it, terrified, as the Hufflepuff watched him with a faintly puzzled expression. Aberforth turned away from him and pounded on the barrier. He wanted out of here, and he wanted out of Hogwarts.

            "Let me out!" he yelled.

            "Do you need help?" the older boy asked politely from behind him.

            "No! Yes! Let me out of here, or I'll hex you!" Aberforth demanded. The Hufflepuff didn't seem to notice the wand that was being shakily pointed at him.

            "That's okay. Just don't hit Simon, please," said the older boy pleasantly. "My name's Uric Beaufolle. What's yours?"

            "Aberforth Dumbledore, but everyone calls me Dumbledore Minor, or Mudblood."

            "That's very rude of them." Something about the way the older boy had responded to his introduction was calming.

            "You're odd," said Aberforth after a moment. Uric looked puzzled.

            "Everyone says that," he said. "Is my badge crooked?" He gestured at the Hufflepuff badge on his robes. Aberforth shook his head no. "Then I don't know what it could be."

            "Can you let me out of here?" asked Aberforth desperately.

            "Yes," said Uric, giving him a smile. He walked over and rested his hand against the barrier, for a moment before casually sticking his hand through the invisible wall. His hand disappeared up to his wrist. Then he pulled it back in again. Aberforth attempted to do the same, but only succeeded in bruising his hand.

            "I don't understand," he said. Uric paused to think before responding.

            "Walls are made to keep things in, whether you are on the inside or the outside of them. They don't like to be walked through, unless they're the type that is made to be walked through."

Aberforth was beginning to panic again. Was he going to be trapped here forever?

"Some of the walls in Hogwarts will never let you through," said Uric knowledgably. "But most of them are nice, even here in the dungeons. You just have to ask them politely to let you through. They already did it once, so they won't mind doing it again."

Aberforth backed away from the wall.

It couldn't be real. The very idea of being inside a wall was unnatural. You didn't talk to walls, nor did you ask them politely to let you through. He would find another way out.

            "No! There has to be another way!" he protested, his fists clenched. Uric was watching him curiously again, and the darkness was growing. The glow from Uric's wand seemed to fade as Aberforth watched and he closed his eyes, but then the darkness pressed in and he was acutely aware that he was _inside_.

_Get away from me! You're not real! _

            A hand closed over his, making him jump. He opened his eyes to see Uric peering worriedly at him.

            "I don't think you should come in the walls again," Uric said. "They don't like to be called names." He seemed to come to some sort of a decision. "Come on."

Aberforth was pulled towards the barrier, and Uric didn't seem to notice when he dug in his heels. The older boy didn't pause when they reached the threshold, but stepped outside, pulling Aberforth with him. Aberforth was too relieved to be outside to notice that Uric was breathing heavily from the effort.

"We've got to be going now," said Uric apologetically.

            "What?" Aberforth's eyes bulged as he watched the Hufflepuff fade from view.

Perhaps the boy really was a demon…

He stood there for a moment, feeling like something was missing. He looked at the wall. How had he gotten out of there? He remembered going in, but couldn't remember anything after that point. There had been something about Hufflepuff. He tried to focus, but the thought was gone. With a shake of his head, Aberforth continued down the corridor, keeping well away from the walls.

* * *

            Norine was bored.

History of Magic had been her favourite class during her first year. She had loved the way that Professor Marclan always focused on her favourite time period in history – the time of Merlin. Nothing could have kept her attention more than the thrilling tales of Merlin's forays into the Muggle world and how he had helped a Muggle boy to greatness. If her great-grandfather was to be believed (and she was sure he was old enough to have been alive back then), then she was actually related to Merlin – and wouldn't it be thrilling if maybe someday _she_ went out into the Muggle world and did something special?

            Professor Marclan had apparently done just that. He had resigned over the holidays and headed off to Cyprus to join the Muggles in a crusade, though no one was sure exactly _why_ he would want to do that. Headmaster Swartz had been forced to hire a new professor on short notice, and Professor Alluvium had come to Hogwarts.

            He was, so far as Norine could tell, the most boring man in the world. Instead of talking about the interesting parts of history, like all the battles and the great witches and wizards, he concerned himself with his list of 'great achievements'. Did they really need to know the date when the Summoning Charm was invented? It was enough to know it worked – and who cared when wizards had started bespelling portraits?

She and the rest of the class watched with boredom as Alluvium wrote a list of the greatest wizarding achievements to date on the large piece of parchment behind him, before turning to address the class.

            "Now, the current cauldron type was standardized in 1201 by Hadrian Sevant…" He droned on and on, but Norine's attention was caught by what was going on behind the professor. She blinked, and suddenly there was a boy standing near the wall. He looked like he was in one of the higher years, but he turned immediately to look at the wall so she couldn't identify him. All she could see was that his hair was done up in a funny braid. She had never seen a boy with his hair like that. How had he gotten here?

            Professor Alluvium didn't notice his visitor, though many of the other students were beginning to, judging by the way they were sitting up straighter and forgetting to take notes – if they had bothered to take notes in the first place.

After a long study of the wall, the boy pointed his wand at the parchment, and she could hear him muttering during the pauses in Alluvium's speech.

            The boy was adding more great achievements to the list. In between the discovery of the properties of bubotuber pus and the invention of the Animatus Charm, the boy wrote "_The discovery of the Great Miggleduffer that lives in the __Forbidden__Forest__ by Oacer Littlemen while he was looking for Potions ingredients_." The class continued to gape as the boy placed more additions on the list.

            "_My mum said that the invention of the Out-Spot Charm was very important._"

            "_John Privet invented the Septum spell for all our waste disposal needs._" Norine had never heard of that spell, but some of the other students were snickering.

            "_The badgers threw a giant party in celebration of the true new year._"

"_Butterbeer__ was banned from Hogwarts for fifty years after an incident involving the Astronomy professor and a very long drop._"

More comments were added, of a similar persuasion, until every space that wasn't covered in Professor Alluvium's handwriting was covered in the boy's. Once he was finished, the boy stepped back to regard his handiwork. He gave a satisfied nod, then turned toward the class for a moment. There was a big grin on his open face, and Norine thought he was looking straight at her as he faded out of sight.

She shut her eyes for a moment, then opened them again.

Alluvium was still talking. And behind him were a lot more notes then she remembered. Maybe she had fallen asleep? With a shrug, she copied them down, and went back to wishing that she were out making history.

Professor Alluvium, who never read his own notes, was puzzled when some weeks later the Great Miggleduffer was mentioned in nearly every one of his students' essays.

* * *

            The jar of rat spleens crashed to the ground, shattering on the stone floor and sending spleens bouncing in every direction.

There were some days when he hated being a teacher.

His lips curled into a sneer at the thought of what the Livy sisters had done to their Burning Solution. They wouldn't be out of the infirmary for at least a week. He had been able to hide the fact that the potion had hit him as well when he brought the girls to Poppy, but the pain had distracted him for the rest of the day. Not a single class had finished its assigned potion.

He unconsciously ran his hand over his arm. If it hadn't been his right arm that was hit, he would have sworn that the Dark Lord was calling.

            A flick of his wand and the jar was repaired, but he bent down to pick up the rat spleens by hand. He was going to spend the night inventing an antidote to the Livys' mistakes. If he was feeling charitable, he might even share it with Poppy.

The breaking of the jar was another hour of work, though. He had renewed the Unbreakable Charms several months ago when he had started teaching. If one was failing now, then they all would start failing, and some of his ingredients were a lot more fragile than rat spleens. He surveyed his floor-to-ceiling shelves of ingredients and decided the charms could wait until after he brewed the antidote.

            Taking the jar of octopus suckers that sat on the shelf next to the rat spleens, he made his way back into his private workroom. He had a sample of the Livys' failed potion at a slow simmer, while next to it, his replica of their potion was at a boil. His careful notes and experiments had revealed the problem.

Now it was time to brew the antidote. He set to work, making a simple healing solution, but intending to expand upon it from there.

            "You're going to need some powdered andara root," said a voice behind him.

Severus spun around, a glare already fixed on his face. A shower of drops hit the floor, dripping from the ladle that was still in his hand. He may have been Hogwarts' newest professor, but he had already established a reputation for being unpleasant to disturb. Whoever had ignored those rumours would pay.

            It was a Hufflepuff, of all people. The boy was nearly as tall as he was, and had a strange creature perched on his shoulder. Severus took in the open, smiling face, the hazel eyes, and most importantly, the scroll of notes clutched in the boy's hands. He snatched his writings back from the boy.

            "Twenty points from Hufflepuff!" he snarled.

The boy fixed him with a bewildered stare.

            "You're still going to need powdered andara root," said the boy thoughtfully. "Though if you don't have any, a unicorn hair might work, if it was a small one."

            "Ten more points from Hufflepuff. And a detention!" This didn't provoke the response he expected. The boy smiled brilliantly.

            "Will we be brewing potions? Maybe I can do the detention now," he said excitedly.

Severus tried very hard to control his temper. Dumbledore would be severely disappointed in him if one of the students was found dead with Severus' fingers imprinted around his neck.

            "You will be serving detention with Filch," he growled. The Hufflepuff was still smiling, though he looked puzzled again.

            "Who's Filch?" he asked.

            "He's only the caretaker of our school," said Severus. "Surely you've seen him before. I can only imagine that you must be a frequent visitor to his office judging by how annoying you are." As insults went, it was sub-par, but the pain in his arm was distracting him.

            "You should probably start now. It's going to take hours to brew that antidote," said the boy helpfully.

That was it. He grabbed the boy's arm, ignoring the startled squawk from the thing on the boy's shoulder. The Hufflepuff didn't resist as he was half-dragged down the corridor.

            "Where are we going?" he asked curiously.

            "We are going to your Head of House," said Severus, in the futile hope that this would intimidate the boy.

            "Who is he in this time, then?" asked the boy.

Snape stopped abruptly and was forced to hold the Hufflepuff up as the boy stumbled into him. An idea had occurred to him. It was so ridiculous that it might be true. He examined the boy again. He could honestly say that he had never seen this student before in his life.

            "What's your name?" he asked in a low voice. It was possible he had forgotten the boy's face, but he never forgot names.

            "Uric Beaufolle, sir." The boy gave a little bow.

Uric.

Severus' eyes widened. Not _that_ Uric. It took him a moment to find his voice.

            "Fifty points from Hufflepuff – and get out of this time!" he ordered. The smile finally faded from the boy's face.

            "But-"

            "Leave!"

Uric frowned at him, staring hard into Severus' face. Whatever he saw made his smile come back.

            "Good luck with your potion, sir," he said politely, then walked off down the corridor, talking softly to the creature on his shoulder.

Severus stared after him for a long moment, until the pain in his arm reminded him of his task. Back to the antidote.

            The next morning, Professor Sprout was heard protesting vehemently about the eighty points that Hufflepuff had inexplicably lost during the night.

* * *

            It was one of the most fascinating things Uric had ever seen. The most fascinating thing had been a re-enactment of the fall of the dark wizard Beogarund, as performed by chocolate frogs, but this did come close.

He was in the Defence Against the Dark Arts office, though it looked nothing like the office in his time. Against one wall was a tank that held a Grindylow, which was glaring at him banefully. An old desk sat near one end of the room. There was a discarded quill on top of it, a smoking goblet of something that smelled like wolfsbane, only nastier, and the object that had caught Uric's attention.

            It had looked like an ordinary piece of parchment from afar. But when he got closer, he had noticed the amazing amount of lines and dots spread across the parchment. At first, Uric thought the lines and dots were playing some type of game. It looked like the dots were trying to avoid the lines, since they rarely touched, and he felt sorry for the dots since there seemed to be a lot more lines than dots. He watched them move about, and even cheered with glee as the dot labelled "Severus Snape" made an escape off the edge of the parchment.

            It took him a moment to remember where last he had seen a Severus Snape. The bad-tempered professor certainly hadn't looked like a dot at the time. Perhaps it was his Animagus form…But then how could everyone have an Animagus form of dots? Or were there secret communities of dots that lived all over, masquerading as the periods at the ends of sentences, and as the little droplets of ink that always dripped from an overloaded quill tip? Perhaps they took the names of their human creators?

            He looked down at the paper again. The lines reminded him of something. He tilted his head, turning it almost upside down as he regarded the parchment.

All the lines and dots seemed to come together.

A map! That was it, even if it was like no map he had ever seen, including the giant map of Britain he had once seen in the Wizarding Council chambers. That map had simply kept track of all the wizards in Britain, showing them as tiny, red dots. Uric had thought they were some sort of plague until his father had explained it to him.

This map was showing _all_ of Hogwarts, though…He looked closer. Actually, it wasn't showing all of Hogwarts. There were a few things missing. Like the secret herb garden and…and something else he should remember…should remember…

And it looked like Peeves was having fun in the armoury. Perhaps he should go visit him.

Uric walked over to the wall and pressed the proper knot to open the secret passage out of the office, then glanced back at the map. Perhaps he should take it with him? But no. It wasn't very useful if it didn't have all of Hogwarts on it. Though perhaps there was a map like that somewhere. Peeves might know.

He followed the secret passage out of the office, wondering whether there really were dot Animagi somewhere…

* * *

Historical Note: The crusade Norine is referring to is St. Louis' crusade (the Seventh Crusade, which ended rather badly…though they all ended badly after the first one). Therefore Norine's second year at Hogwarts was in 1248-1249.

Next chapter: 1992:)


	3. The Squib and the Oddball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter three of this story is written by Ozma. I highly recommend her wonderful squib stories:)

Hogwarts Castle has many secret places. To reach the passage behind the mirror on the fourth floor, one must tap a petal on the single daisy carved among the many roses on the mirror's ornate wooden frame.

I tapped the daisy's petal three times. The mirror opened to reveal a long, narrow staircase. Toolbox in one hand and lantern in the other, I descended. At the foot of the stairs is a dirt-floored chamber which allows access to the union between two very large pipes.

It was the middle of the night. This plumbing job could take hours to fix. I could have waited till morning to start the work. But since Mrs. Norris had been Petrified I'd been finding it difficult to sleep. Or eat. Or do much of anything beyond what was necessary to keep the Castle clean and in good working order. I raged at the brats whenever they stepped out of line or simply got in my way, but punishing them brought me no comfort. Like everyone in the Castle, I was tense and afraid. The recent attack against Sir Nicholas and the Finch-Fletchley boy had made everyone around me even more unsettled.

Even the double-attack couldn't make me feel worse than I already felt. I'd been heartsick ever since the moment when I understood why poor Mrs. Norris had been the creature's first victim.

It was because of me. Mrs. Norris had been attacked because she belonged to a Squib. The Horror, whatever it was, obviously loathed Squibs as much as it did Muggle-borns.

Keeping vigil near the place where my poor cat had been found was more than I could manage tonight. The sight of that vile message had grown unbearable. But I needed to stay busy somehow. Having had several complaints about a lack of water pressure in certain parts of the Castle, I had reason to suspect that we had sprung a leak down here.

Yes, my lantern's light revealed that one of the pipes was cracked. It almost looked as if something had made it expand from the inside. How odd. What could have done that?

At least the pipe could be salvaged, though the patching would take even longer than I'd thought...

The seepage from the cracked pipe had been running off into the dirt below for a while. If I had known about the other secret tunnel (the one which ran beneath this one) I might have been more cautious about where I stood.

When the weakened dirt floor caved in under me, I was taken by surprise. I tumbled downward into darkness, accompanied by a shower of dirt, mud and stones.

* * *

Waking with a dreadful headache, I realized that I had been buried alive.

There was a bleak irony in my predicament. In the weeks since I had been without Mrs. Norris I had been feeling as if things were caving in on me. The rage which had sustained me thus far had been slowly ebbing away, leaving only a heavy, numbing sorrow.

Now, I felt enraged again as dirt clogged my mouth and nose. I could neither move nor breathe. First my poor cat had been Petrified and hung up like some grotesque sacrifice for the brats to gawk at, and now this! It wasn't fair, it wasn't FAIR...!

Still raging helplessly, I lost consciousness.

* * *

"Did you see them? The badgers?"

It was a voice that I'd never heard before. An incongruously cheerful voice, considering the circumstances.

"B-badgers...?" I choked, spitting out a mouthful of mud.

I wasn't buried any longer. Instead I was lying on my back on what felt like a pile of lumpy, stony earth. Gentle hands were carefully wiping dirt away from my eyes, mouth and nose.

"It's possible that you didn't get to see them," the voice said as though the matter was of some importance. "Your feet were sticking out, not your eyes. Your toes must have wanted to go for help. Though it might have been better for you to stick out your nose instead. Noses can breathe."

Then the voice softened. "Perhaps your nose was afraid. Don't worry, it's all right now. The badgers were here."

I managed to open my eyes.

In the dim radiance created by several small glowing balls of light, I saw a tall boy kneeling beside me, clad in black student robes. He was wearing a Hufflepuff scarf and badge. I didn't recognize him.

This lack of recognition unsettled me. I should have known his face. I know all the brats' faces. How hard had I hit my head?

Whether I knew him or not, he certainly didn't belong down here! I scolded him as best I could (taking several pauses to cough) for being out of bed so late, and in a part of the Castle where students didn't belong. Then I proceeded to threaten him with shackles and chains.

"My name is Uric," the boy said politely, during one of my pauses. I noticed that he'd managed to find my lantern (broken and dented), and my toolbox (undamaged, since old Pringle had put Unbreakable charms on it for me, many years ago).

Then I heard something chirp. I saw a strange creature perched on the boy's shoulder.

"This is Simon," Uric said, smiling happily at the odd beast. Neither the boy nor the winged lizard seemed bothered by my threats.

"Do you think that rocks like to hibernate while they're underground?" the boy asked me, gravely.

"Stop spouting nonsense!" I wanted to snarl at him, but a wheeze was the best that I could manage. I'd just realized that, thanks to the cave-in, the boy and I were stuck at the bottom of a deep hole. The cracked pipe, and the bottom of the steps were too high up for either of us to reach.

"Haven't you heard a single word that I've said?" I choked.

Anxiously the boy felt his ears, as if to make sure that they were still attached to his head.

Even I could tell that he wasn't being insolent. The expression on his face suggested some real doubt as to whether he would find his ears in their proper place.

"Do your body parts often wander off?" I growled at him sarcastically.

"Well, my mind often wanders." His voice was quite earnest.

"You're giving me a headache, boy," I moaned, resting my head in my hands.

"But I don't have a headache to give you," he said in that same earnest tone. "And you seem to have one already. My name's Uric," he repeated. "Uric Beaufolle. And this is Simon. Who are you?"

"Argus Filch. That's Mr. Filch, to you."

"You're the caretaker!" He sounded more glad to see me than the brats usually sound. "Do you see the badgers often, Mr. Filch?"

Now we were back to badgers again.

"Stop going on about badgers. There aren't any badgers here. Only the two of us, and we need to get out of this hole somehow!"

"Three of us," he corrected me, gently. "You've forgotten Simon."

"He's got wings!" I growled. "We haven't. Where did you come from, anyhow? You weren't here when the floor fell in. I suppose that I should be grateful that you came along. It's likely that I'd be dead if you hadn't. Can you get us out the same way that you got in?"

"The badgers saved you, Mr. Filch. Not me. Look."

I felt a wave of power from him, subtle and unsettling. It swirled around me. The floating lights came closer.

"They don't often leave tracks," he said. "They must like you."

I stared at the many small, clawed tracks in the earth all around me. Despite myself, an awed shiver ran down my spine.

"You were drowning, Mr. Filch. In mud and dirt, instead of in water. And they came to help." He grinned, a rather engaging grin. "They're especially fond of anyone who's of the Lady's house." He touched the Hufflepuff badge on his robe in a manner that was both reverent and cheerful.

"But, I'm NOT of the Lady's house!" My voice cracked and broke, even as it rose in a heartbroken cry. "You don't understand. I'm not in any house. I'm nothing. I clean the messes and mop the floors. And there's some c-creature here that thinks I'm not worthy enough even to do that. It attacked her. My poor little cat. If she had belonged to anyone else, she'd be fine right now! It's MY fault. It should have been ME, not her..."

To my shame, I felt tears mingling with the dirt on my face. I hate breaking down like this, though crying in front of one student is a small thing compared to breaking down in front of most of the school.

The boy was still clutching the badge on his pocket. His face grew very sad as he looked at me. Then, frowning, he patted the pocket and pulled out a second Hufflepuff badge. His frown deepened.

"I shouldn't have two. Is this one yours?" he asked.

Wearily, I shook my head, brushing at my tears. "No. I told you. I'm not..."

"Of course you are. The badgers would know." The boy sounded distracted. He was now holding the badges side by side, studying them.

"Something's not right," he told the little bird-lizard.

"Many things aren't right," I muttered.

"I think I know what I have to do," the boy continued. "But, first..."

He took a wand from his pocket, a remarkably bendy one. Murmuring a spell that I didn't quite catch, he pointed the wand at the piled earth around us.

The stones and dirt began to shift and flow, forming themselves into a flight of stairs leading upward, out of the hole.

"I can't take you out the way that I came, Mr. Filch, but the stones don't mind helping you. They said that they weren't hibernating," he said.

His hazel-eyes fixed on me as he helped me stand. That steady gaze was disconcerting. "The badgers are here, even if you can't see them. They know you're worthy." His voice was soft and gentle. "Don't be so sad. Things aren't as bad as they could be."

"Things are still bad enough!" I growled.

The boy smiled at me absently but made no reply. He picked up my toolbox and the broken lantern. Then he offered me his shoulder to lean on.

With his help, I limped up the stone-and-dirt stairs. We passed the cracked pipe and continued upwards, toward the mirror's back. The bird lizard perched itself on the boy's head and chirped softly to itself and us all the way up. The floating lights accompanied us.

When we reached the mirror, the boy pressed his hand against the hidden catch without needing to be told where it was. The mirror opened.

"How did you know how to do that?" I demanded. I should have been angry, but my head ached and bewilderment was the best I could manage.

"The passage and the mirror have been here for a very long time," the boy said gravely as he handed me the lamp and my toolbox.

"That's not an answer!" I started to say. The words died in my throat. One moment the boy was standing there large as life with his distant, thoughtful smile and a winged lizard on his head and the next moment he was gone!

At least the toolbox and the broken lantern remained comfortingly solid when I clutched at them.

"Boy!" I wheezed. "Where did you go?" A heartbeat later, I remembered that he hadn't said where he'd come from in the first place. And a heartbeat after *that* I was wondering who I'd been talking to.

"There couldn't have been a student back here! None of the brats know about this passage..." I murmured to comfort myself. Hastily I stumbled into the corridor and closed the mirror. My dirty, bruised reflection stared back at me when I looked into it. Sighing wearily, I set the toolbox and lantern on the floor by my feet. Then I rubbed my aching head.

That cracked pipe had made an awful mess, and even caused a cave-in. Now, I'd need to carry a ladder down there to patch the pipe!

This was one job that could definitely wait until morning.

That night, I was able to sleep well for the first time in weeks.

I dreamt of invisible badgers.

* * *

Next chapter: More random time hoping…and we find out some of what Uric realized…


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